


For the Length of an Interlude

by Artemis1000



Category: RWBY
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Banter, F/M, Relationship Study, Treat, Undercover, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: Winter and Qrow meet while they're playing security at a ball for Remnant's high society.





	For the Length of an Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TereziMakara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TereziMakara/gifts).



“Never thought I’d see the Ice Queen herself partying hard one day.”

Winter turned her head towards Qrow Branwen, taking in the sight of him with a drink in his hand leaning against the wooden railing, his fine evening attire somehow looking perfectly rumpled. It should be impossible to look like you’d just rolled out of bed when you were wearing an outfit that had been delivered to you less than an hour ago in pristine condition, yet somehow Branwen managed the task easily.

The sleeves of his black tailcoat were crinkled, his medium-grey bowtie crooked. She arched her brows at the sight of him, wondering archly if she should be grateful that he had managed to button his light-grey vest and white shirt properly.

If only he were half as industrious at guarding the ballroom full of Remnant’s most important leaders as he was at presenting himself as a ne’er-do-well.

“If you would like to call this partying,” she said, her tone clipped, with just a hint of scorn, “you are welcome to do so, as long as you do it elsewhere.” She arched a fine white brow at him and pointedly went back to observing the dancers on the floor below.

He grunted to himself, head tilted to the side. Winter could feel his eyes on her, his gaze prickled on her skin. “One of these days you’re going to hurt my feelings.”

Her lips curled. “I can only hope.”

From the corners of her eyes, she watched Qrow sip on his glass, it was a large glass filled with a clear liquid which, knowing him, was far more likely to be liquor than water. Well, at least it looked slightly less conspicuous than walking around with his usual bottle.

At first glance, at least, he fit in; just like she did in her lavish evening gown. She ran her kid-gloved hands over the wide tulle skirt of her dress. At least she was holding to her familiar color scheme of white and blue, even if that came in the form of a white dress beaded with blue crystals on her corset and the hem of her tiered skirt. There was a matching blue hairpin in her neatly pinned up hair, standing out starkly against the white. She didn’t feel much like herself in this attire, it looked too much like something she would have worn while attending such events as Jacques Schnee’s daughter.

Winter eyed Qrow again, noting the ease with which he wore his costume and reshaped it to match his real self instead of reshaping himself to match the costume. She sighed, and quietly wished for a drink of her own.

“Just make sure you aren’t too drunk to do your job, if it comes to that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grinned. “I’d never pass up a brawl with you.”

Her lips thinned, brows knitting slightly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Branwen. You wouldn’t be fighting me. Considering the size of the property, it’s unlikely we would even be fighting side by side.”

“Hmm… Shame, that.”

Maybe it was. He was a good fighter, once you looked past the theatrics, the deflections, or the stench of alcohol he wore like other people wore their armor.

Winter did not smile but her gaze turned inward, eyes softening slightly. She knew a lot about unconventional armors.

Approaching footsteps yanked her out of her thoughts, she took in herself and Qrow, conspicuously inconspicuously lingering on the upper levels where ball guests were banned. In a quick motion she plucked the glass from his hand, placed it down on the railing and placed herself firmly in his arms.

Qrow blinked slowly at her, looking for all the world as if he wasn’t sure if this was a drunken hallucination.

Winter ground her heel into his toes. “Dance with me,” she hissed.

To his credit, he fell into a smooth dance without even so much as a moment of hesitation once her demand had been made, and by the time the liveried security guards passed by them, they were nothing but a couple like any other, just in the wrong place.

She tensed under the guards’ scrutiny, already braced for battle, but it was Qrow who spoke first and pulled Winter flush against him, his hand dangerously low on the small of her back.

“Sorry, pals, we’re just looking for some privacy, alright?” he drawled, adding a dirty wink which would have gotten him slapped under different circumstances.

Winter felt very tempted to step on his foot a second time, but she stuck to a tight smile, not trusting herself to play her part once she opened her mouth.

The men sniggered, but after a moment they moved on.

Qrow didn’t release her, he just went back to moving to the music that drifted up from the band playing below.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Dancing. You were the one who demanded a dance.”

She gave him another arch look and moved his hand up to a more respectable position on her back. “One dance, Branwen.”

His red eyes shone with something which she could have sworn was an amused smile. “Wouldn’t dream of asking for more.”

She didn’t know where he had learned to dance but he moved smoothly and confidently like she only knew him to move in battle, and his hands were very warm. It felt as if the music reached them from far away, the crowd below having disappeared, even the purpose of their presence here had momentarily shrunken in Winter’s awareness.

Qrow didn’t speak. Maybe he knew if he spoke he would only break the spell and remind her why she ought to loathe him.

But for a few minutes, there was peace between them and she felt strangely reluctant to step away from him when the dance ended. She could still feel the phantom touch of his hands, cradling her own and against her back.

Winter returned to her position at the railing and resumed standing guard, while Qrow retrieved his glass.

They both returned to themselves, but they didn’t speak of it, not even to goad another with the knowledge of the dance they had shared, perfect goad as it would have been.

For now, they had something akin to peace.

Mere minutes later she caught sight of General Ironwood moving through the illustrious crowd and discreetly checking the upper level’s balustrades until he found her. Winter held his gaze for a moment and gave a nod. All clear.

A tiny movement of Ironwood’s head was all it took for Winter to get his message. They were done here. Time to leave.

Qrow snorted. “Time to run back to your master like the lapdog you are?”

Winter’s shoulders stiffened in quiet outrage. “I’m doing my duty, not that you would know the first thing about it. That aside, I won’t be goaded into a battle with you.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Too bad. It would have been fun. You and me… it’s been a while.”

Her stance softened slightly. “It has.”

Their duels were always a challenge. There weren’t many people who offered her a challenge. And maybe he wasn’t completely awful, sometimes, when they were in the midst of battle.

It was… enjoyable, though she could never admit such to Qrow. His gloating would be insufferable.

They lingered for another moment in silence.

Winter turned away. Duty waited for no woman.

“Winter?” Qrow sounded far more earnest than Winter had known him for a good long while.

She turned back on her heel, though the motion was not as smooth or military-precise in the heavy ball gown she wore than it would have been in her normal uniform. She swallowed her irritation at this imperfection and regarded him coolly, her silence alone a demand to say what he had to say and be done with it.

Qrow hesitated for a moment. “You look nice.”

She whirled around again, her back turned to him. She pressed her lips together. Damn him.

“Goodbye, Qrow,” she said firmly.

She didn’t look back, but within the privacy of her own mind, she could admit that maybe Qrow hadn’t looked completely disappointing either.


End file.
